Upside-Down Pear

…and it’s the sandwich for its time and place.

I don’t have my mother’s recipe for Rosemary Olive Bread, but the other day I was jonesing and went on a Quest. I found a substantially similar recipe and went to work. Sourdough breads are easier for me to make than for my mother, since I maintain a starter (which I have named Eduardo); the starter means that all I have to do is warm it up rather than fermenting one for three days.

The recipe makes two large loaves; I decided to make one loaf and then a set of rolls. The rolls don’t need to cook quite as long, and they came out round and soft with a perfect, just-crusty-enough crust.

We ate some of them with spicy shrimp, and saved the rest for later.

Today, after gardening, I came in hungry. The rolls, wrapped in a clean cloth, tempted me from the kitchen table. I sliced one in half and put it in the toaster; found mayonnaise and stone-ground mustard, soppressata and Ossau-Iraty. When the roll tumbled out, crisp and hot, I layered on the ingredients: mustard on one side, mayo on the other, cheese on the mustard, soppressata on the mayo - put it together, and sliced it in half.

It looked perfect on the plate; olives peeping from the bread, warm fragrance rising, cheese softening against the hot bread. I almost couldn’t bear to eat it, but I did: it was perfect in the mouth as well.